"The Era of University Conflict": The Anguish of an Athletic Association Member 50 Years Ago

It was in Showa 20 (1945) that our country suffered devastating damage in the previous war and faced defeat. In the 70-plus years since then, the tireless efforts and wisdom of our predecessors have brought peace and prosperity to our nation. During that time, various political and social events emerged, and the path was by no means flat.

About a quarter-century after the war, a startling phenomenon called "campus conflict" occurred, shaking the very foundations of "academic independence." I have at hand an article I contributed to the Mita-hyoron (official monthly journal published by Keio University Press) at the time (March 1969 issue). It consists of 6,000 words—"immature," driven by passion, and filled with expressions that were extremely disrespectful to those involved—written by a Juku student and Athletic Association member who was tossed about and continued to suffer in the midst of the turmoil. Furthermore, in the following issue, there were submissions from Professor Masaki Ikuta, Director of the Athletic Association, and Takeo Tanabe, a senior who graduated in Taisho 12 (1923), which were deep-hearted and seemed to embrace and advise the youth. I wonder how I can chronicle these memories today.

Fifty years ago, the storm of campus conflict raged across Japan. In almost all universities, days continued with buildings barricaded, classes cancelled, and core events such as entrance and graduation ceremonies suspended. The reasons varied: clear leftist revolutionary ideology, rebellion against the established order, sincere reformist thought, and the backlash from students who did not agree with these and sought a peaceful campus life. All-night student assemblies, daily rallies, shouting matches, brawls, and the dissolution of meetings... it could only be described as a fever.

Eventually, groups known as Zengakuren radicals became prominent. Armed with iron pipes, Geba-bo (wooden staves with numerous nails driven into them), helmets, and masks, they occupied central campus buildings. Faculty and students had no means to counter this violence and lawlessness. The President and professors were abducted, forced to wear signs around their necks, and coerced into "self-criticism." The devastation of the campus was tragic.

Keio University was no exception. Starting with the struggle against tuition increases in Showa 40 (1965) and reaching its peak with the "opposition to the introduction of US military funds" in '68, the movement knew no bounds, and eventually, even the Jukukan-kyoku (Keio Corporate Administration) was occupied by Zengakuren radicals. It was impossible to tell if they were Keio students, students from other universities, or even students at all. Professors were confined and forced to engage in self-criticism.

Reactions within the campus were diverse. While there were naturally Keio students and faculty who fiercely opposed the abnormal situation, there were even professors and Keio students who defended and supported the radicals; each debated, clashed, and hated from their own positions, yet each also strengthened their sense of solidarity. Of course, there were also "non-polies" (non-political students) who took it as a perfect opportunity to slack off. No one possessed the physical power to stop or remove the violence and lawlessness. To those afflicted by the fever, the sensible persuasion of Keio students was powerless and ineffective. However, for some reason, I don't recall hearing many strong arguments that riot police should be brought in to immediately remove the illegal occupiers. Perhaps the unspoken pride and understanding that we should be a school of independence and self-respect prevented us from simply resorting to the final measure.

Among the Keio students were members of the Athletic Association. At the time, there were probably around 1,400 members across 33 clubs. These were young people who endured rigorous training to represent Keio University in matches. They loved the Juku, loved sports, and took pride above all else in being members of the Juku Athletic Association. I was one of them, serving as the captain of the Karate Club and a standing committee member of the Athletic Association headquarters. I had the responsibility of managing not only the Karate Club but the Athletic Association as a whole. In the midst of this, at some universities, the Athletic Association ended up in armed clashes with the radicals. They stood up with force against the armed groups that threatened the existence of the university they belonged to. Some universities overlooked or even encouraged this movement by the Athletic Association. And the Athletic Association lost. It was reckless. Against armed radicals with combat experience, the Athletic Association students were no match. It left irreparable rifts and hatred between students.

The various clubs of the Juku Athletic Association were diverse. Some clubs continued their practice indifferently, while others cut practice short to rush to student assemblies and various rallies to voice their opinions. However, the strongest argument was: why does the sensible Athletic Association overlook the abnormal situation unfolding on the Mita Hilltop Square? The Karate Club frequently suspended practice to hold internal discussions. This led to conflicts of opinion among members. I was tossed about and anguished. The individual versus the whole, leftist/rightist radical ideologies versus common sense, my attachment to the Juku where I had studied for 16 years, and my overflowing physical strength and passion.

In the end, the Athletic Association refrained from any collective action. This was the result of overcoming several moments of decision that were, quite literally, paper-thin.

The conflict at the Juku eventually came to a practical end when the collective power of sensible Keio students, who persisted in dialogue, realized the departure of the radicals from the Jukukan-kyoku (Keio Corporate Administration). Keio University became the only university in Japan to achieve this without the introduction of police authorities.

What did the Juku, Keio students, and Keio University alumni lose and gain through this historical experience? How will young Keio students and Keio University alumni receive and understand the meaning of this "campus conflict at the Juku," and who will verify it and pass it on to future generations? The thoughts that cross my mind are still complex. However, if we call those who devote themselves to what they love and the organization they belong to, and who stand calmly without boasting, the "Elite," then through this painful yet vivid experience, I was able to meet many true Elites. Later, I learned that such experiences are rarely encountered in the actual world. At the time of my "immature" submission, I had neither the means to realize this nor the words to speak of it. Fifty years of time has made this possible.

*Affiliations and titles are those at the time of the publication of this journal.